line is the path of a moving wave-
by peach delphine
purple window waist of day awakened delivered whole
into ash once a great ancient verdure now steady
subsidence as Gulf reclaims flowering flatwoods
nearly feral creatures soused stoned driven beneath basics
time of stew chicken slicks in dark broth living off okra rice
hot links tongue of erosion running and running broken pot
reassembled jambs hacked away pins slipped crockery and cooks
vanish into night headed down to the river sandbars here then gone
defined out of defined into queer crematoriums smoked low visibility
particulates lung clogging acidic precipitation step outside off
pavement crabgrass chainlink sandspurs heat index of 95 at 0230
no breeze barefoot contemplate sweat absence lifting into long
plumes ash text of finalities long recitation long pause each breath
measuring resistance renunciation reclamation each breath filled
with cries of gulls drifting Gulf side each exhalation droning
blue solitary bees each day another small triumph as fat bottoms
wiggle into roseate hibiscus weeding sand patches watering
chiles we were signifiers ciphering tiles broken saplings maturing
into way marks same litany that lifted flesh not ours alone
untangled tongue utterances once denied confiscated names
proscribed incandescent in dim hours who has voice without
existence disembodied pinwheels platter of leafy greens crushed
herbs pungent with abandonment vegetables turned small
ciphers spiraling tomato roses folded sacrificial flesh smoke
drifting through high window clouds reflecting Gulf voiceless
some other speaking for us eating without hunger without need
we fill five gallon buckets with weeds then water ferment
in full sun stinky hydration for peppers cukes cream peas
tomatillos food security flowering resistance if you are what you eat
what you bring up by hand green onions lettuces tomatoes cukes
high bush eggplants easy stuff unexpected defiance hidden blade
cutting complete utter see how queer language is laid on tongue
taste fluidity bitter longing brightness pulled from dirt taste
taste the fucking rainbow lemon squeezed garlic and pickled flowers
gathered layered served up cracked pepper olive oil bitter greens
washed three times hand shredded table laid eating with us
seals bond lamps are lit salt of my salt always living
in hangman’s pocket drinking from deeper aquifer this well
never runs dry bone deep breath backed this well never runs dry
erasure is an illusion still we remain making what is dreamed
still speaking what is lived still speaking of love still tending
the pot on the fire still weeding flowers for fat bottom blue bees
peach delphine is trans and is from tampa, florida.